


Turpentine

by Oquinn53



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - FBI, Artists, Con Artists, M/M, Medium Burn, major character death isn't Magnus or Alec, more like medium rare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9650498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oquinn53/pseuds/Oquinn53
Summary: Reworked from original fanfiction Turpentine, written in 2010.Ragnor Fell was shot in front of Magnus Bane in broad daylight.Being a con artist meant his job was dangerous, but Magnus had always thought he had hidden so well. Now, with his world slowly cracking, he has to quickly find out who killed Ragnor, and who was possibly a threat to the entire Downworld, while searching for a new artist to replace his deceased friend.Alec Lightwood was in a family of Feds - and therefore caused him to be the only one to take the artist's route. Freelancing meant he was poor, so when a job comes up from one of the biggest companies in the city, he's ready to accept - but not before thoroughly questioning he new (and very attractive) client.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Extended warnings: There will be a LOT of spurts of violence, starting right away. If you ever need to be spoiled with cliffhangers, let me know!
> 
> I'll keep this first note short and say I hope you enjoy it! chapter lengths will vary! This is definitely on the short side to start. It's a reboot of an old fanfiction so I would love any and all feedback!
> 
> ~Annie

Prologue

 

 Being a consumer of the arts was something that had driven Magnus throughout his life. He could look at a piece and know the dollar value within a blink. He could stand inside of a museum and stare at a single work, trying to delve deeper into it, consume it, become a part of it. He could, at a glance, tell the history of a piece, and had then become very familiar with the world of forgeries. He had lost count of the number of art pieces burned into his memory.

It was not a piece of art this time. It did not require hours of staring. It wasn’t assisted by years of study. This memory happened within a split second, and stained his clothes, too.

Flight or fight, they said. Those were the responses the mind provided for protection. It didn’t cover the moment of shock, the moment where Magnus was splattered with blood, where he watched as just a few more words trickled from his friend’s mouth and Magnus couldn’t even gasp. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t _breathe_.

It was when the body thumped on the ground that Magnus ran.

Flight. Flight was his instinct. He was not a fighter, had never _been_ a fighter.

He had been in a _park_.

Where was he going?

Stash. He had a stash somewhere. He just had to get his mind working enough to remember _where_.

Someone had _shot at them in a park_.

It was down another block. An alley. Behind the dumpster.

Magnus also used the area behind the dumpster to empty his stomach, gasping when his throat was clear to do so, and letting the tears it caused to be the tears of mourning.

He didn’t have time. There were sirens. Of _course_ there were sirens. There always were in New York, but he knew they would be looking for him. They would be asking questions, and he couldn’t allow for that.

He stripped off his navy suit jacket, felt the texture on his under his fingers as he stared at the splatters of blood.

His hands were shaking.

He wanted to throw up again.

He didn’t. He took careful breaths as he threw it into the dumpster, waiting only a moment to do the same with his shirt so that he could wipe his face. With the tanned shirt was stained red, Magnus knew there was more on his face than a quick wipe could fix. He slid down to the broken concrete, dismissing any thought of how filthy everything else was, and he used a water bottle to scrub at his face until it started to burn.

No one could see him like this. No one could know he had been there. No one could know he was –

He cleaned up. He tossed every piece of his clothing into the dumpster and pulled fresh ones from his stashed bag – a simple white button down and black slacks. He combed back his hair and checked himself.

He had an appearance to keep up. He had to move forward.

He had to find out who did this.

He pulled out a burner phone from the bag.

“Business as usual,” he said the moment someone picked up. They would know his voice. He glanced around to make sure no one was in ear shot. “Send out a warning to the Downworld. Ragnor Fell has been shot and killed by an unknown assailant.”

“Magnus –”

Magnus closed his eyes tightly. “Raphael. Please, just do this silently for me.” He hung up.

He felt so heavy, so drained of energy and will, but he knew the only way he would be able to figure out _what just happened_ meant he had to carry on as normal.

He wished, not for the first time, there was a place he didn’t have to hold up appearances. As he walked back out into the day, right past a police car, he wished he could scrub out the most recently mental image as hard as he had rubbed his face.

“Good evening, sir.” He started politely, tilting his head as if searching for a name tag. All he saw was brown suit, tie, and badge. A Fed, then.

The man was very sharp looking in both structure and eyes. “Can I help you?”

There was a type of exchange that needed to be made. “Yes, Sir. I think I might have some information for you,” Magnus said, grinning widely, despite the feeling that his stomach was dropping. “About the shooting. You are the investigator for it, right?”

It was a simple exchange. Where Magnus gave a little, risked a little, just to get a single piece of information.

The man seemed more interested now. “Yes. And what information would that be?”

“First, I need to know who I’m telling,” Magnus said, glancing down at the man’s badge. “Can I see?”

Just one piece of information, and it would be the start of making sure the Downworld was safe.

That everyone he loved was safe.

The man pulled out his badge and showed it quickly, but Magnus was used to having to grab pieces of information quickly.

He only had to say just enough to be convincing – to show he was there, but not the one who Ragnor was _with_.

He already got the information he needed.

“Do you prefer ‘Lightwood’ or ‘Robert’?” Magnus asked cheekily.

“I prefer ‘Sir’,” Robert sneered, but it was obviously he was stayed controlled.

Then, as the conversation went on, and without Robert ever realizing, Magnus slipped away without even giving his name.

This was his game, and he would use it to defend his family to the ends of the Earth.


	2. Of Shoes and Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only extended warning for this chapter is an over mention of shoes and my lack of a Beta. If anyone's interested in that, I am also willing to be a Beta (even for original works!).
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Alec was really tired of painting shoes.

However, he was not tired of getting a very nice paycheck for painting shoes, so therefore he wasn't tired _enough_ of it. He was just very, very close.

"Imagine," Jace said as he walked around Alec's make shift studio. That was, he walked over the plastic covering his living room. "A gun on one hip, a badge on the other, and a title to pick up whoever you want. No more paintings of shoes."

"That might work for you, but that's not _me_ ," Alec said as he leaned away from the canvas. He was proud to say that his work was nearly flawless. He was able to create paintings so realistic people often mistaken them for photographs. Which, yes, he took as a compliment - but it didn't feel _right_. Still, it got him this far, so he never complained. Not aloud, anyway.

"It would be better than painting _shoes_ ," Jace said. Jace, who was in his apartment more often than not. Jace, who was his father's partner within the NYPD. Jace, who shared his last name but not his blood. (He had held on to that last fact for a nine-year-long crush and was still embarrassed about it. Looking at Jace now, he only really felt slight affection amongst annoyance.)

"Give it a break, Jace. At least I'm living off of art." He pointed a paint brush at his adopted brother. "And don't remind me of my bills. I have them covered."

"But that's _all_ you're doing," Jace said as he fidgeted around the living room. Alec was sure the apartment was only as clean as it was because his brother was there so often and couldn't just let things be. He watched as Jace eyed the sink. There was _maybe_ one used glass there. "Let me pay for a full night out. We can start with new clothes and work on getting you laid."

Alec frowned and looked down at his grey sweater. It had paint on it, but it was comfortable, which was the main point. It had also been black at one time, but that was irrelevant. "These are my work clothes. I have others." He ignored any other comment.

"Then put them on and come out with me tonight," Jace urged. He moved to start cleaning the single glass in the sink. "Just to see your family. It's been too -"

Jace's phone blared loudly with what sounded oddly familiar. He quickly checked it before Alec could place the song. "Well shit."

Alec plopped his brushes in his cup of turpentine. "Work? What happened?"

"Shooting in Central Park."

Alec sat up straighter. "What? Who would do that in _broad daylight_?”

"Well, it's part of my job to find out," Jace said, turning to look at Alec. "It could be yours, too."

"Being a consultant is enough exposure to that life for me," Alec said, raising his hands to pass. He did admit, at least his degree in art history and fabrication allowed for some large checks within certain cases. He was used to identifying forgeries. "But how would that fall in your category? You're not homicide."

Jace's eyes were sharp when he met Alec's. "I am when the victim is Ragnor Fell."

 

\---

 

It wasn't strictly necessary for Alec to come along with Jace. He only went as far as the edge of the park before watching his brother go towards the crime scene and his waiting father. Alec didn't have a badge, but he did have a card that explained how he was a consultant in all things related to art crimes.

That's why he wasn't stepping further. There was no art involved - just a very infamous artist.

Ragnor Fell had been an artist Alec _admired_. He had caught many of his forgeries, sure, but they had only discovered his name because of his original work. Ragnor had _shined_ in the art world before disappearing completely once Alec had connected his work to the Green Horns, as Jace named him for his signature. 

Now he was dead in the middle of Central Park.

Alec shivered.

There wasn't a place for him here. It was simply the end of one long investigation and the start of another.

He turned around and went home.

Only to find himself there the very next day with a sketchbook.

Alec felt terribly cliché as he sat in the grass and sketched. Central Park had been cleared and cleaned within hours. There was no sign a shooting had happened at all. That is, except for the smallest indent where the bullet had landed. The bullet was long gone, but Alec felt like it was still there. He sometimes forgot exactly how dangerous that side of the world was.

He had sketched the park in a dozen different angles before deciding to sit at a bench and look at his boots. He let out a small laugh as he realized he had, at some point, painted another pair of shoes - that is, his own were splattered in all shades of paint. He really did need to go shopping.

"Well if that isn't a beautiful laugh."

Alec stopped abruptly and looked up. There was a man standing over him, slim, tall, and Alec though 'beautiful' fit him much better than his own laugh. He was sure the man’s suit cost more than a year’s worth of rent. Alec flushed and stumbled over a few syllables before straightening sharply. "Sorry," he said, although he realized he didn't know _why_ he was apologizing, which looked to be the same thought the other man had when he laughed.

Yes, his laugh was _much_ better than Alec's.

The man sat next to Alec and gestured to his sketchbook. "Can I see?"

"Uh," Alec said, then realized he had actually been given a request and fumbled to offer his sketchbook. "Sure, yeah. It's not - I'm not that good. I mean, I am in art, but not - not that sketching isn't art." He stopped himself from rambling further before he said, "I paint, mostly."

"Oh?" The man hummed. He was looking very intrigued by Alec's sketches. Alec was very intrigued by his face. He tried to look away and didn't succeed. The man looked up and his eyes were _shining_. "Do you have a portfolio?"

"Ah," Alec said, who had not brought anything but his sketchbook, pencil case, and what else could fit in his jean pockets.

The amused expression was back. "Any pictures on your phone?" The man asked.

Alec had forgotten he owned a phone. The only reason he was able to grab it was because he knew the embarrassment of _not_ doing so would be worse. He focused very closely on his phone as he searched for a painting not shoe related. 

Nothing felt original, so he settled on a skyline painting of New York. Completely overdone, but it still showed his skill enough.

It was when he was handing over his phone that he realized he was showing his work to a complete stranger. He had been taught to show his work to anyone willing to see it. That was the only way to make connections.

He wanted to know who _this_ man was. The man who had a spark in his eye and a soft smile on his lips.

"Who are you?"

The man looked at Alec and that was when he knew he had worded that horribly. He really did have to get out more. His social skills were sorely lacking. "I meant to ask for your name," he said as evenly as he could.

"My name?" The man said, looking back down at Alec’s phone, where he was scrolling through Alec’s pictures. "I should be asking for _yours_. You really painted these?" Alec nodded as he was slowly handed back his phone. "It's amazing. They all are. Better than photographs."

" _Better_?" Alec questioned.

"Yes," the man said honestly. “Realistic to a degree a camera can’t capture. Where you know it has to be a painting because the real world just can’t be that beautiful.” He started digging in his suit jacket and pulled out a business card. He flicked it between two fingers, holding it there with the back facing Alec. Alec went to grab it, but the man tilted his hand away. "Your name first, Sweetheart."

Alec gave a questioning look at the pet name. "Alec," he supplied. The man tilted his head forward, as if guiding him to continue. "Lightwood," he added.

He was handed the business card.

"I would like for you to work for me."

That sentence was not comprehended as Alec stared at the business card.

"No way," Alec said, looking up. "Magnus Bane? No way. The owner of Bane Co.? No. Magnus wouldn't - what are you even - are you _scouting_ for artists? No way. This must be..." he stopped himself as Magnus laughed.

"Check yourself. Google it." Magnus gestured to Alec's phone. "I'm positive you'll see nothing but my beautiful face."

Alec did google it.

He swore he had been taught better manners, but he couldn't stop staring.

The owner of Bane Co. was wanting to hire _him_? What?

"Now, as far as the job," Magnus said, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other as flicked his wrist in the air dramatically. "I'd like to see a trial painting first. Paid, of course. It's just standard -"

"No."

Magnus did not looked shocked at Alec's quick refusal. He looked... interested. "No?"

Alec shook his head. He was being an idiot, he knew, but it all felt so heavy. He wasn't at that level yet. He had perfected technique, but not the soul. He held back the business card. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Magnus looked at the business card, and then Alec very purposefully. "Keep it," he said. "There will always be a job open for you. And if not a job..." he shrugged and smirked. "A date."

It was as Alec was frozen in the most embarrassing imitation of a fish as Magnus gracefully stood and gave Alec a mock bow. "It was a pleasure, _Alexander_ ," he said, and there was not a damn thing Alec could do as he left.


	3. Of Games and Bank Accounts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, updating the very next day! That's because this chapter is extremely short but if I'm going to be honest with myself, that's going to be a norm. At least that means quicker updates? 
> 
> No extended warnings for this chapter except that I still don't have a Beta and I am extremely distracted with thinking of tonight's episode! (Yes, please, feel free to fangirl with me!) Also, this chapter makes it seem like the story will be going down the road of sneakiness and betrayal and all that... but know my goal is to write a very healthy relationship, so bare with me! I hope you enjoy!

_Lightwood_.

It took just a few questions to find out Alec Lightwood was the son of the exact man investigating Ragnor Fell’s death.

Magnus was rather pleased to learn his full name was, in fact, Alexander.

He could decide between grinning uncontrollably or sighing as he stared at his computer.

Alec had not called. It had only been one day, of course, and Magnus wasn’t really eager. It was more like he just wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. If he didn’t keep his mind on _something_ , it inevitably went to his deceased friend, and he had learned long ago that wallowing did nothing. Only _doing_ something did.

He could not decide how far he should push with Alec. On one hand, Magnus desperately needed an artist to continue business. On another, Alec was a great connection to the investigation. It would be easy to keep tabs on it, and the man seemed interested enough.

Except he had said no to Magnus’s job offer. It _bothered_ Magnus more than he let on.

He drummed his fingers on his desk before huffing and picking up his phone, quickly dialing a number.

“Magnus,” Catarina Loss said. Usually Magnus would hear some time of reprimand for calling her at work. The softer tone was probably due to recent events.

“Blue,” he whispered with a sigh. He cleared his throat. “I have some leads. You haven’t happened to hear of Alexander Lightwood before, have you?”

There was a moment of silence and Magnus checked his phone to make sure there was still a connection. There was. “Cat?”

“Magnus,” Catarina said slowly. “That’s the name of the consultant who discovered Ragnor’s forgeries.”

Magnus’s stomach dropped and his heart leapt in his throat. All he could get out was, “ _Fuck_ ,” as he rubbed his face.

“Magnus? What is it?” The concern was clear and Magnus had to take a few deep breaths before he continued.

“It’s fine. It’s just a bit more complicated than I had originally thought.” Magnus was thankful now that Alec had said no. He got paid to catch forgeries, so surely asking to create one would bring up red flags.

And Magnus had basically asked him out on a date.

Alec Lightwood could have been the whole entire reason Ragnor was dead. If not for him, he would have never been exposed, would never have had to go into hiding, and would have never had a legitimate fear of public meetings.

He had seemed so innocent.

“Magnus?”

“I’m fine,” Magnus reassured. “Really. I’m figuring it out. I’m going to call Raphael.” Catarina gave a warning click of her tongue. “What?”

“Be careful, Magnus,” was all she said.

“Alexander Lightwood deserves to have his bank account depleted,” Magnus said in a clipped tone.

“Maybe, but don’t forget his family’s occupation,” Catarina said. “I don’t want you being rash and getting caught. Ragnor wouldn’t want that.”

It stung, but Magnus took whatever feelings he had and pushed them deep inside him. “I’ll just have the information available for if I will use it.” Catarina made another noise. “Safely,” he added.

“You worry me,” Catarina said. Magnus could hear rushed chatter in the background. “I have to –”

“Go,” Magnus said. “Take care of your patients.”

“Keep me updated. Don’t do anything risky.” Magnus hummed in response and Catarina hung up.

Magnus did call Raphael, who was able to gather Alec’s full information within a few hours. Magnus was always impressed, but even more so when Raphael walked into his office with full bank statements.

“For being the kid of a Fed, his account’s security was laughable.” Raphael looked rather bored by the whole affair, accept he was still standing there after having delivered the information. Magnus had known his long enough to recognize Raphael’s subtle way of checking in on him.

Magnus hadn’t thought to check on Raphael.

“Are you okay?” Magnus asked gently.

Raphael took in a slow breath through his nose. “You should look at the statements,” he deflected.

“Raph-”

“He was a good, annoying shit. Now there won’t be someone to gossip with about you. Happy?” Raphael snapped. “Now look at the statements.”

Magnus only let his gaze stay on his friend a moment longer before looking at the papers in his hands.

Oh. Well. It seemed Alec was doing an excellent job of depleting his account on his own.

“Is this his only account?” Magnus asked, flipping through the other details and purchase history. It was a stupid question. Raphael Santiago never did his job halfway.

“You know it is,” Raphael said simply and unnecessarily.

Magnus rubbed the paper between his fingers on habit. “I would have expected something different from a Fed’s son.” But perhaps maybe not from the man Magnus had met in the park. He tossed the papers on his desk. “Monitor it. Keep me updated with any major changes. If we strike, we’ll strike him when it hurts the most.”

Raphael did not question him. He just bowed his head ever so slightly in a friendly acknowledgement and left.

Maybe Magnus had to go about this differently. He checked his phone. No messages. It wouldn’t be difficult to get Alexander’s phone number. It was clear he needed a well-paying job, so maybe he just needed a small extra push.

It could just be another part of the game. He didn’t have to involve emotions in any way. In fact, if he could screw Alexander Lightwood, it would just be even sweeter of a revenge. Sure, he probably wasn’t the shooter, but Alec was involved enough that it would give Magnus some satisfaction. He would be doing _something_.

It took one page flip to find his number and Magnus recorded it in his phone. Not yet. He had to be patient with this. It was a game and it was working out perfectly.


	4. Of Work and Awe

“Come on, Alec,” Jace said. “Work your magic.”

Alec didn’t know where to _start_. The ongoing investigation with Ragnor Fell had led to a cottage beyond the city limits. Because they didn’t cover that area, they had to wait for another team to go in that did. Then it took yet another day for them to send any useful information to their team. It was an address to a warehouse.

A very big warehouse.

A warehouse filled with paintings, antiques, and equipment.

Alec was called in to see what was real and what wasn’t. Luckily, he wasn’t the only consultant on site, but it would still take a while to get through every piece.

There were varying degrees of difficulty in identifying forgeries. Some were so obvious that they were immediately separated, while others would have to be taken to a lab for chemical testing. 

Alec was in awe.

This was the process. Ragnor Fell had never been able to simply replicate the paintings. He had practiced and practiced. Alec would sometimes simply lose count of how many replicas there were. It was almost a relief to realize Ragnor didn’t simply have a natural talent for duplicating perfectly the first time, but the pure determination was astounding.

Alec supposed the paycheck involving the original made it well worth it.

Then there was the fact the originals were here as well. They would have to be tested just to confirm when Alec acknowledged them. Even if sometimes it irked him his experience wasn't trusted, he understood the need for confirmation. Ragnor Fell had been _good_. His signature was the only thing Alec ever really caught, and it had been by pure luck when he was staring at the technique used for stitching.

“Stop drooling,” Jace said, whose job was mostly finished at the site, but who still had to be there with Alec. A bored Jace was never a good one.

“I’m not drooling,” Alec defended, although he did check himself. It had already been hours and Alec’s eyes were starting to hurt from the strain. He would never admit that out loud, though, and definitely not to Jace. “We can continue tomorrow.”

Jace shrugged. “As long as you’re okay with doing this in Evidence.”

Alec’s nose wrinkled. He wasn’t thrilled with the man who worked in Evidence, but there was no way this was getting done in one day. “Fine.”

It took another few hours to load the rest of the art work, which meant the sun was setting and Alec really wanted a warm shower and five layers of blankets. It felt like the start of winter.

It was when they were heading to jace’s car that his phone started vibrating. He really didn’t want it to be the lady wanting another shoe painted, but his wallet did. “Hello?” He said after not recognizing the number

“What are you doing right now?”

Alec paused. He looked at the screen of his phone, staring at the number as if he _should_ recognize it. He glanced at Jace, who looked confused as to why he was being glanced at. “Uh,” he said, thinking of what the actual answer would be while adding, “Who is this?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize my voice, Alexander. It’s unforgettable and that would make you a liar, which I suspect is not the case.”

_Holy. Shit._

“ _Magnus_?” Alec asked, more than a little puzzled. Jace looked much more interested now. There was a smirk and Alec decided the mature option was to ignore him. “How did you get my number?”

“Connections,” Magnus said. His voice sounded like velvet and Alec turned completely away from Jace to hide his face. “So?”

“So…” Alec said, still mentally catching up with the conversation. “Oh. I’m, uh. I’m finishing up work actually. Why?”

“A painting?” Magnus asked. Alec swore it was like a purr right into his ear. It was definitely a problem. Why was it a problem?

Alec glanced back at Jace, who was gesturing to his SUV. Alec held up a finger for him to wait. “Not this time, actually…” He didn’t want to ask ‘why’ again, but he made sure it was in his voice.

“Well, I decided to not let you go so easily,” Magnus said casually. He could have been checking his nails with the way it sounded, but the words just did not fit. “The offers still stand, as I said. Have you considered them?”

Alec had not. Not really. He had been so distracted by work he wasn’t even quite sure where Magnus’s business card was.

That wasn’t true. It was in his wallet. He just tried to forget that.

He tried to take a moment to remember the exact offers (The job, yes, but the date had to have been a joke) and, like usual, only syllables seemed to be the answer. “Uh…” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure…”

“You said you’re finishing up work, right?” Magnus asked. Then, without Alec answering, he added, “How about you text this number once you’re done and we can meet somewhere. I’ll present my offers one last time, and you can decide after that.”

Alec honestly did not know how to say no, and Jace was looking rather impatient at this point, so he said, “Sure. I’ll do that.”

“Wear something nice,” was Magnus’s acknowledgement before he hung up.

Shit.

“Who was that?” Jace asked as Alec lowered the phone from his ear.

“Magnus Bane,” Alec said, eyes wide.

Jace’s eyebrows rose. “Of Bane Co.? Why would Magnus Bane be calling you?”

Alec rubbed his hand behind his neck and scrunched his eyebrows. “I’m not sure,” he admitted honestly, “But how fast can you help me buy new clothes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, what could next chapter possibly be? ;) Also I'm officially making it a challenge to have one chapter ready EVERY DAY. So here we go guys.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> ~Annie
> 
> (FYI I might not flat out write smut but I'll still give attention to a very significant step in their relationship. :) Unlike certain things :) That I love but am currently bitter about :) )


	5. Of Minutes and Consideration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned last chapter, I will in fact be updating daily from now on! This chapter is twice as long very a very specific reason (as you'll see) and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> No extended warnings except I mean this is fluff. Important fluff. Layers of things going on here. But it's fluff and I think you'll be happy! Please do let me know if you're enjoying it~
> 
> Just a final note, some things might seem... fast. But believe me, it's not really going to be as fast as it might seem. :') Enjoy!
> 
> ~Annie

Having always been a man with a plan, Magnus thought he was completely prepared to deal with Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

It took all of five minutes for him to reconsider everything.

The first minute had been watching Alec make his way out of a taxi. What should have been an easy task was made into quite the show of long limps and craning necks. Magnus had stayed where he was, watching in both fascination and amusement.

The second minute involved Alec approaching Magnus with the most apologetic expression he had ever witness, which felt so silly when Alec had done absolutely nothing wrong. At least, not in this moment. He did not look like he had just come off work if Magnus went by his clothes, which involved an untucked, fitted, navy button down under a casual suit jacket and black slacks that looked fresh off the hangers. The only indicator was that Alec looked tired and he was blinking a tad more than normal. Still, when he smiled, Magnus smiled too.

The third and fourth minute involved actual words.

“It’s good to see you,” Magnus said gently. It wasn’t all that difficult for him to fake fondness, even if he was planning on destroying this man’s life.

Alec looked caught off guard and Magnus realized this really was going to be too easy. “I… why?” Alec asked. It was so innocent. He was clearly not a very confident person, which made him a perfect target. Except Magnus was already having trouble combining this Alec into the same schema as an accomplice to Ragnor’s murder.

“Why not?” Magnus whispered. Alec’s expression told him he could very well give reason for why not, but Magnus stopped him with a raised hand. “The better question would be ‘why here’?”

Alec looked towards the building with a type of easy familiarity and disappointment. “I guessed to see the art, but I ran too late…” He was, of course, referring to the fact they were at The Frick Collection museum and it was very obviously closed.

Magnus dug into his jacket pocket and jingled the keys between them. “Who says?” His pride only grew at Alec’s astonishment.

“ _How_?” Alec gapped.

“Sometimes it’s better not to ask questions,” Magnus said with a wink.

Alec seemed frazzled enough by it that he took a moment before saying, “Nothing illegal?” Magnus shook his head. Alec shrugged, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Then okay. Let’s go. It’s chilly out here.”

The fifth minute involved him stepping past Magnus towards the museum, and Magnus spotting a size sticker still stuck to the back of Alec’s slacks. It was so silly, such an amateur mistake that Magnus nearly laughed. That is, until he remembered the figure (or lack thereof) on Alec’s bank statement.

Alec Lightwood, who had very little money, had just bought new clothes to meet Magnus.

Magnus should not have felt so flattered.

He decided to plan a time he could smoothly take the sticker off instead of mentioning it.

The next five minutes involved Magnus debating over his exact plan. He was still going through with it. It was just that he was already fighting a tug at his heart and a guilt in his stomach was forming unnecessarily as he unlocked the door and let Alec in.

A flick of a light switch turned on the lights, and that was when he lost Alec’s attention as the artist headed straight for the first painting.

“I haven’t been able to visit in so long,” Alec said blissfully after a few minutes of staring. Magnus had been watching him the whole time. Then, Alec turned a beaming smile towards him.

Maybe Magnus could enjoy his plan for just a little while. Maybe he could enjoy _himself_ for just a moment. He deserved that, didn’t he?

Probably not, but he was going to give it to himself anyway.

They walked through the museum, admiring not only the collection, but also the structure of the building, the warm tones and ionic columns. Alec stopped at every single painting on the way and Magnus never grew tired of it. He knew these paintings intimately, and Alec seemed to as well. At least, his extensive knowledge of the artists or even the exact pieces themselves was admirable at least, intimidating at most. Magnus was just barely keeping up as the entered the oval room.

Alec stumbled, just a slight toe under foot, and Magnus used the opportunity to reach his hands out and steady him – and to let his hand sweep down to make quick work of the sticker on his pants, smoothly pocketing it in his own.

“Ah,” Alec said, who seemed embarrassed but unsurprised at his clumsy step. He quickly looked away from Magnus and towards the only painting in the room. “Oh, this painting –”

“Is involved in the job offer,” Magnus said. Alec seemed to realize exactly how much he had been talking (even if Magnus had been a very willing participant) and his face flushed. He cleared his throat.

“I thought it was frowned upon to mix work and pleasure,” Alec said. His head was down, and so were his eyes until they looked up, through his eyelashes, and Magnus had to cover a probable sharp inhale with a slow one.

This was completely unfair.

Magnus turned so he was completely facing Alec, and Alec did the same with Magnus. "So this is pleasure?" Magnus asked with his eyes half lidded, feeling rather accomplished.

"Artwork is always pleasurable," Alec said, and it was the tiniest hint of a smirk that made it so Magnus didn’t feel he was completely wrong about what Alec was referring to. His expression still must have looked doubtful because Alec added, "The newest addition fits right in." Then, he gestured to Magnus. It seemed so _odd_ and completely unlike the Alec who had struggled with the taxi.

Still, Magnus was well aware of groan-worthy pickup lines. "Talking about yourself like that just doesn't seem to fit your character, Alexander." He smirked as Alec's mouth slacked in surprise and it only took a moment more before both of them started laughing. It was so incredibly bizarre. All of it. How the sound filled his ears and stretched his cheeks and lifted the spirits he had been ignoring.

He wasn't sure he could actually do this.

"Well, I did promise to pitch both offers, and _I_ certainly don't mind mixing work and pleasure," Magnus said, his hand gesturing back to the painting.

Alec's eyes still seemed to be laughing at he looked at the painting. " _The Girl With A Pearl Earring_. 1665. Jan Vermeer," he fired off easily. 

Magnus nodded. "I want you to replicate it."

Alec seemed to freeze and that was when Magnus knew he really was at least familiar with forgeries. He was no idiot and the wary look he gave Magnus confirmed it.

"Vermeer," Alec said slowly. "You think I could really do it?"

"I do," Magnus said honestly. "Not the aging, and I can supply any materials needed, but the strokes? The technique? You have the skill."

Alec's eyes stayed trained on Magnus, searching him, every inch of his face, before switching to searching the painting. He licked his lips. "I should tell you," he said slowly, "that I identify forgeries for the NYPD."

There it was moment of silence between them, but Magnus made sure none of it contained fear. At least not from him.

"Then I guess I should tell you this museum owes me a favor or two," Magnus said, fiddling with the keys in his pocket. Alec's eyes went towards the noise. "Which is why they gave me a copy of the keys. As far as your painting, it would not be a forgery as it would definitely not be claimed as the original," He said easily. "I simply want it in my office without taking it from the public eye and prints just do not compare." When Alec still looked uneasy, Magnus continued. "I'm hoping you'll accept many future visits to my office, where I'm sure you'll be able to recognize your own work."

Alec was blinking just slightly faster again. His eyes slid away from Magnus, to become unfocused as his expression morphed into humiliation. He swallowed and was twisting his fingers nervously. "I, uh," he said before restarting. "Sorry for, uh. For thinking any differently. You must - are you an investor in the museum?"

Magnus slowly bowed his head. "A frequent customer who wishes for its best intentions," he said, and it was the truth. Magnus might deal with forgeries, but that never had to mean the art had to truly suffer for it.

Alec was staring at the painting again. "It's just," he said. He looked sad the next moment. "The work I was doing today? I was checking - no, let me start at the beginning. Did you hear about Ragnor Fell? The guy who..." he hesitated, and Magnus tried to keep a neutral face as he let Alec find his words. "He was shot in Central Park."

 _I was there_ , Magnus wanted to scream, _His blood was on my face_.

"Yes," he said and allowed for some of his grief to leak through. "Con artist or not, he had an amazing gift."

Magnus had expected some type of argument to that, but instead find that Alec truly looked upset by it. His whole face was downcast and his eyes were glossed over. "I was asked to go through his work. They, um. They found a warehouse where he must have worked, and... it was amazing, Magnus. His work was..." it was as if Alec's words had caught in his throat. Magnus was feeling the exact same, but to see Alec experience it was... not at all what Magnus expected.

"I knew him," Magnus admitted before he could stop himself. When Alec looked at him, Magnus explained, "He had done a few paintings for me. He was who I was going to have paint this portrait for me. That's why..." Magnus trailed off. He was suddenly starting to feel very tired.

"That would explain the practice copies of this piece, then," Alec said towards the painting. "He had already started his process."

"It was before his... main occupation was revealed," Magnus said. He reminded himself the easiest lies were the ones closest to the truth. He was fairly certain he hadn't told a lie yet.

This was becoming too difficult. He had a job to do. So, with a stabilizing breath, he said, "His public attention was probably what led to his death."

He saw the words hit Alec like he had been struck by an arrow. It was a jerk, but rather a twitch in his hand and in his breath; the dread that leaked into his expression. 

Magnus hated it.

"Alec...?" he asked softly.

"I was the one who," Alec said, then choked off, and it was obvious he was controlling his reaction very carefully. "I found his hidden signature. I... I was the reason..."

It was the complete horror and self-hatred that filled Alec's honest expression in the most subtle ways, the way his eyebrows fitted together, the way he bit his lip, the way his eyes looked lost - that made Magnus discard any and all previously thought out plans. There was no possible way Alec would have ever meant harm, even if it was the result. It was obvious now, with the sudden connection being revealed, that Alec was very good at punishing himself.

That was enough.

It was too much.

"Alec," Magnus cooed, putting a hand on his shoulder hesitantly, paying close attention to what Alec was and wasn't comfortable with. "You didn't pull the trigger."

"Yeah, but I gave a clear shot, didn't I?" Alec said, knocking Magnus's hand away and then regret flashed in his eyes. "God. I'm... sorry. I just hadn't seen it that way. I had just... I was at the park, when we met? I was there because of him."

"Me, too," Magnus whispered.

Their eyes met.

"You did not kill him," Magnus said confidently. He bit the inside of his cheek. "Only an idiot would think that. It was insensitive for me to say -"

"No it wasn't," Alec said quietly. "It's - I'm sorry for freaking out. I just - I always admired him. Whenever a case involving Green Horns came up, I was so excited. And Ragnor's original work? He was so..."

"Good," Magnus supplied.

The energy seemed to drain from Alec then, too. "Yeah."

Magnus observed Alec. He hadn't expected this, had never dreamed Alec could end up being anywhere close to this type of person - he wasn't sure that type of person actually existed.

And what exactly was that type of person?

The one who mourns even a criminal?

The one who has such a big heart?

The one who -

Magnus took a step forward towards Alec. Alec's eyes immediately met his. "You could finish his last work," Magnus whispered. "If you wanted to."

Alec's gaze was so strong Magnus wasn't sure it couldn't see through any lie he would tell. "I could," Alec whispered. He seemed much more interested in that idea now than before, but there was still a hesitancy.

"You could also kiss me now," Magnus said. Then, with the most vulnerable smile, he added, "If you wanted to."

Alec gave a small smile. “I could,” he repeated. And Alec did.

It was ironically the most surprising gesture Magnus had ever experienced. 

Not the fact Alec actually kissed him. It was that the kiss was a mix of warm and cold. It was the fact Alec's fingers just barely touched Magnus's jaw to guide it. It was the way Alec did not open his mouth, at least not as much at Magnus expected from kisses, but it still felt just as involved, and it was the fact it was over before Magnus could put words to everything he felt about it.

He was rather breathless.

Alec was flushed and he still seemed so uncertain. Magnus wanted to fix that, but he was in no condition in any form to be able to continue the kiss.

"Tomorrow," Magnus breathed. "Have coffee with me."

Alec seemed surprised by offer, even if it really shouldn't have been surprising by this point. "I... I have to finish going through Ragnor's work tomorrow," he said regretfully. If he had looked tired when he had arrived, it was really showing now. Yet he was still there.

"Then when you're free and rested," Magnus suggested. "Maybe don't... give me an answer now. Just think about the offers with this... information. Both of them."

"Both," Alec repeated, although Magnus couldn't tell if he was dumbfounded or just making sure everything was clear between them.

"Work," Magnus said, then slowly, sensually, "and pleasure."

Alec smiled and ducked his head. It was when his eyes looked through his lashes yet again, with the look of a truly honest man, that Magnus felt he was rightfully screwed.


	6. Of Trials and Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Still on the roll of updating daily! I really hope you guys liked the last chapter! I thought you would, but who knows, right? So I'm just moving forward and hoping for the best. 
> 
> The plots slowly starts to move forward.... ;)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~Annie

The morgue had only been a dreaded place to visit the first few times. It was when your sister's job required many visits to the morgue that the experience became numbing. Alec was fairly certain he was becoming nose blind to rotting flesh and realized that would make it much more difficult and easier to survive a zombie apocalypse at the same time.

He was definitely not purposefully thinking about everything but what he was going to talk to his sister about. Admitting that would mean it wasn't working and he had two days of hard work to show he had not completely obsessed over it yet.

"Iz," Alec said as he entered, paper bag in hand. "I brought Taki's. Up for lunch?"

Isabelle Lightwood seemed much more interested in the corpse in front of her. It wasn't Ragnor's, which was a relief. There was still a guilt settling inside him, slowly jumbling his organs at the thought of possibly being a reason Ragnor had been easily targeted, but he pushed that back far and quick. 

Sighing fondly at his sister, he walked past her, holding up the bag when she glanced up and headed into one of the offices.

She was a Forensic Anthropologist, but that was like saying Alec was only an Art Historian. She had the degrees needed, but she did it all while strutting the sidewalks and filling the billboards along with them. The occasional appearance on Broadway or in fashion magazines meant she was much more successful at making money in the arts than he was and it wasn’t even her main focus. He admired her greatly. He didn’t think he would ever be able to get to that level of success. 

Well, unless he really did take Magnus's job offer.

He thought about their kiss and he bit his lip to hide a forming grin, then decided food would be a better way to do that.

It wasn't too much later Izzy came in and slid into the office chair with a sigh. She grabbed at the takeout. "There are bodies showing up everywhere and they act like I'm the only one available to I.D. them. Some _look_ ancient, but none of them are. People get so creative when they try to hide bodies..."

"They come to you for a reason, Izzy," he said. "You _are_ the best in town."

She smiled tiredly at him. "Thanks big brother. I know. Now, are you going to tell me why you're grinning?"

"I'm grinning?" Alec said as he grinned wider.

Izzy kicked at him under the desk and laughed. "You _are_! What happened? Did you get laid?"

"What? No!" Alec said quickly, deciding to put his food down for a moment to avoid any embarrassment. "But I, uh. I think I had a date." Izzy seemed interested in this, her eyebrows were raised. "With Magnus Bane."

"Magnus _Bane_. Of Bane Co.? Oh my god, _Alec_. How did you _not_ get laid? He's practically a sex symbol, not to mention his wardrobe..." she trailed off blissfully. Alec had definitely noticed his wardrobe, even being one who usually overlooked those type of things. Magnus has worn a combination of subtle colors and patterns that were fitted so well Alec had to distract his mind from wandering too far. His knowledge of the Frick Collection had definitely helped.

Izzy perked up and pointed her fork at him. "You better not have messed up the date."

Alec gave a small, helpless laugh. "I don't even know if that's what it was. However..." he trailed off and smiles innocently. "He did ask me to have coffee with him when I'm available."

"Then why are you _here_?" Izzy asked exasperatedly. "Go!"

Alec shook his head, still smiling. "It's already past dinner time and...” He stopped and poked at his food. “I don’t know if I should.”

Instead of yelling at him or calling him insane, Izzy gently put down her food. “Why?”

“It’s complicated,” he whispered. “Magnus is…” There were too many words that could describe him, and yet Alec couldn’t find a single one that encompassed him. He let his eyes fall when Isabelle’s gaze became too much. “He wants to hire me as a painter as well.” Isabelle gentle bowed her head, urging for him to continue. “I mean, I could do one or the other, or both, I guess. Something just feels off about it.”

“This isn’t a time sensitive thing,” Izzy said. “I say take it slow, try it out _if you want to_ and then see how you feel.”

“I’m not exactly sure I should do that as a painter,” Alec mumbled. “It’s… a lot of money.”

“Then budget yourself so that you’re not getting paid for it,” Izzy said. “Try it out and if you feel uncomfortable, cancel the job. It’s okay to do that, Alec. Feel it out. See if coffee feels _right_. Did the date feel right?”

“I don’t know if it was actually a date,” Alec reminded her, but he couldn’t help thinking it was if he was being honest. “I mean, I kissed him – don’t give me that look. It wasn’t a serious one.” Any kiss was serious to him, but surely not to someone like _Magnus Bane_.

“Text him,” Isabelle demanded. “Right now. Set up coffee for tomorrow.”

“But Ragnor’s case –”

“—Can wait an hour while you have coffee,” she said, leaving no room for argument as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Plus, you owe me for covering for you and your gay ass all of high school and I need to meet Magnus. Got it?”

Alec let out a small huff of a laugh. “Got it, got it,” he said as he took out his phone. There really hadn’t been any communication between him and Magnus since they went to the museum, so Alec hesitated. Why was he so hesitant? Was he just nervous?

He took a slow, deep breath and sent a text.

Not a minute later, coffee was confirmed.

Alec ignored Izzy’s triumphant smirk. “Remember you owe me a meeting with him! Don’t fuck it up!” She called as he left.

“Love you, too,” he called back with a roll of his eyes.

 

\---

 

They were meeting at a local coffee shop, one of those shops with their prices a little on the high side and their service unmatched in quality. There was warm atmosphere and tables filling most of the shop, including a small lofted area. It was honestly a perfect place for students to do homework or casual meetings to take place.

 _Or dates_ , Alec reminded himself. He was going on a _date_.

He had been standing at the entrance for too long.

“Can I help you?” One of the baristas asked from a couple dozen feet away.

Alec flushed and quickly scanned the area to make sure Magnus hadn’t already arrived before approaching the counter. He ordered himself a simple cup of coffee and had just picked it up when a hand slid across his back. He tensed immediately and had to forcibly make himself relax as he realized it was Magnus.

“Impatient, are we?” Magnus teased as he removed his hand. “I was going to buy.”

“Well, now I can pay for you,” Alec said, even if it meant having to do really quick calculation in his head. He would be receiving a check soon enough. Still, he had to forcibly stop himself from checking his balance on his phone. He had some cash. It was _fine_.

Magnus looked at him and shook a finger at him. “No fighting over who pays yet. That’s at _least_ date five.”

The way Magnus said it made Alec think there was a confidence they would get to date five. He wondered which one this counted as.

He didn’t say anything as Magnus ordered, and then there was small talk while it was being made. Once they had found a small table by a window, Alec’s shoulders seemed much less tense. It was just coffee. It wasn’t _difficult_. He didn’t have to aim for getting to date five. He just had to figure out what he wanted.

“So, have you thought about the job offer?” Magnus asked. Even doing something as mundane as drinking coffee he looked like a model. His shirt was more casual, knitted with small lines of color contrasting black and Alec had definitely noticed his pants were skinny jeans. They fit him very, very well.

Maybe Alec should have thought about his clothes more, but he hadn’t. Now that he thought about it, he knew there was at least one dot of paint stained on his sweater, and his jeans were definitely faded. He started to fidget.

“I did think about it,” he blurted out in too much of a rush. He held his cup with both hands and rubbed a thumb across the edge of the lid. “I think I’ll try it, but,” he said, giving a pause to judge Magnus’s expression. He was looking pleased and calm, but Alec definitely had his full attention. “If at any time I feel uncomfortable doing it, I’m going to stop. I just want you to be aware. If I do, you won’t have to pay me and I’ll replenish your supplies.”

Magnus hummed and rested his chin in his hand and elbow on the table. His fingers drummed against his cheek. There was a twitch of a smile. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’m just happy you’re willing to try it. There will be no pressure, but I do request you tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable at any given time.” His eyes softened. “That applies to both work and pleasure.”

Alec didn’t fight his smile. “I wanted to try. I’m just naturally…”

“Anxious?” Magnus supplied.

Alec nodded. “Or cautious. I don’t panic. Usually I just… avoid things that could lead to that. But this…”

Magnus’s smile widened. “You’re testing the waters, are you?”

Alec shrugged. “I think it’s worth the risk.”

Magnus’s expression changed then. Surprise, maybe, and Alec was going to question it when his phone went off.

“Ah, is it okay if I…?” Alec asked as he saw it was Jace.

Magnus tilted his head and his fingers danced while gesturing to the phone. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Alec said, then answered. “Jace?”

“Where are you?”

There went Alec’s good mood. “Having coffee. Look, I’ll be there soon enough. I was planning to stay late instea—”

Jace cut him off, his voice sharp and gritted. “This is important. Listen.” So Alec excused himself from the table and walked just a little ways off, in case there was sensitive information and prying ears.

He listened.

He lost his breath.

He hung up, waited for his heart to beat relatively normally before he approached Magnus.

“I’m so sorry, I… I have to go,” Alec said. He was trying not to shake, but it almost seemed impossible to control.

Magnus looked up at him. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Alec didn’t have to debate telling Magnus at all. “Robert – my dad – he…” He let himself take a breath. “He just got arrested for Ragnor’s murder."


	7. Of Decisions and Interrogations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main warning for this is that it was very much rushed and completely unedited and it's short. HOWEVER I'm still glad the chapter ended here. I think it still gets across exactly how this story will be going! We have a long way to go still~
> 
> Enjoy!

The conflict in Alec's eyes was bright. Magnus could see it throughout the phone call and it did not leave as Alec busied himself cleaning the already clean table top.

"I'm sorry about this," Alec said, and it was not the first time.

The thing was, Alec procrastinating leaving gave Magnus time to decide how he was going to respond.

When it reached the fifth time Alec was apologizing and the table was completely sterilized, Magnus said, "Can I come with you?"

The thing was, thinking back to that day hurt, but he did not block it out. He remembered details. He had talked to Robert - but it had been at least an hour after the fact. 

What if Robert did it?

What if, by being a witness openly, Magnus could help find Ragnor's killer? 

Whether that meant proving Robert was innocent or guilty didn't matter. 

"Magnus?"

Magnus opened his eyes were he had squeezed them shut. He looked at Alec, looked at his worried expression - now not because of Robert, but because of _him_.

"I was there," Magnus croaked out. "I can be a witness. I didn't want to. I wanted to forget what I -" Saw? Experienced? Felt? Nothing described it.

Alec looked stunned, but the reveal did not seem to affect him at all. "Are you... are you sure?"

Magnus laughed hollowly. "I'm pretty sure I was there."

"No," Alec said, shaking his head. "Are you sure you want to be a witness?"

With those words, Alec had done something terrible. He had proven that within just a few meetings he cared more about Magnus's comfortability than finding out the truth about his father.

Magnus made a few decisions in that moment. Some, he decided, would have to wait to be addressed.

“I’m sure.”

 

\---

 

The process of being a witness was unnerving. Not only did Magnus typically avoid the NYPD, he had been avoiding the very topic he was being asked precise questions about. He had decided to be honest. At least, as honest as he could be.

He explained that he was meeting with Ragnor to talk about his… job, Magnus carefully said. He did not have a lawyer because he wasn’t being accused of anything, but there was a part of himself that wished he did. He knew his rights and therefore he did not expand on what the job was.

He did say it was legal, though, which was more or less true.

Then it got to the harder details. They had found the bullet, but they wanted to confirm their theory on the direction it came from. That required Magnus remembering Ragnor’s face – and where the blood had landed on Magnus’s face.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Magnus said. It was a blonde interrogating him. Jace Wayland, who was apparently a friend of Alec’s. A really close friend, if their interaction meant anything.

He was no friend of Magnus’s.

“I wiped it off as soon as I realized – It felt like it was everywhere, okay?” Magnus said. He swore he had stayed calm before. He wasn’t having a meltdown now, but he was extremely uncomfortable. He folded his arms and leaned back.

“And why did you run?” Jace questioned.

“Am I being accused of something, Wayland?” Magnus sneered. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already figured out he wasn’t shot by _me_.”

Magnus was well aware his defiance meant he was going to be put under a microscope for at least the next few months. He was good at what he did, so it wouldn’t be a problem. Just inconvenient.

Plus, he wasn’t doing them a favor by acting as a witness. Being in their favor, even as a criminal, was of great benefit.

When all the details were repeated a dozen times in a dozen different ways, Magnus was finally allowed out.

Alec was still there, leaning against the wall across from the interrogation room. Jace glanced between them before raising his eyebrows at Alec. When Alec gave no response, Jace let them have some privacy. Alec did not look up from his boots. How long had he been there, waiting? How much had he heard?

“Alec,” Magnus said in a whisper.

“Was it really a legal meeting?” Alec asked. It was clear he had listened to at least part of the interrogation. He sounded tired.

Magnus stared at him. “Yes,” he said honestly. “He was my friend, though. I knew he…”

Alec looked up from his boots. His eyes were the type that once eye contact was made it was impossible to break.

“I made the choice to be here,” Magnus said. “Now I’m making the choice to tell you more than anyone else.”

“And if I don’t like what I hear?” Alec asked harshly.

“Then you don’t have to ever see me again,” Magnus said, “but I will still help in any way I can.”

That seemed to mean something to Alec, because his features softened. He shook his head, but he was smiling as if this was the most absurd situation. “Okay,” he said. “How about we go to my apartment?”

“Right now?” Alec nodded once. Magnus’s eyes widened. “Sure.”

He could help but feel he was heading into yet another interrogation. This time, he was a lot more nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know! Sorry guys. Next chapter will be a Very Big Conversation and possibly a complete change in a particular relationship... any predictions or theories~?
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Annie


	8. Of Truths and Hurt

After you've worked with the NYPD long enough, you gained the instinct of suspicion first and reason second.

Alec had not worked with them long enough, apparently. 

He had accepted Magnus's quick explanations each time there had been one. He had heard the oddities of Magnus’s words and yet he still had latched onto any other reason. He had been so eager he had been made into a fool.

He was such an idiot.

They had taken a taxi. It had been awkward and silent, but Alec was still trying to find the instinct to hold Magnus close and whisper reassurances. He had lost a friend.

That had only pushed back Alec’s warning signals until they arrived at his apartment.

It wasn't anything special. With his budget and New York's prices, he was just barely able to keep the studio apartment. There was still plastic over the floor and an easel near the kitchen, by a small counter that separated the spaces. Their shoes crinkled the plastic as they stepped in, Alec going in further to pull the Japanese room divider open, blocking the bed that made up his bedroom.

He shouldn’t have cared.

He did.

He turned around and crossed his arms. When Magnus said nothing, Alec raised an eyebrow. He was going to allow for an explanation before he created too extreme of assumptions. Still, he had a better idea now of the type of man he was dealing with, and that meant he had to pay attention to every word choice he made, every fidget, every bit of eye contact – and hope that he would be able to tell if all the signals were all a con themselves.

Magnus's eyes would glance around every once in a while, as if he was subtly taking in the apartment. There was no judgement on his face - no emotion at all, in fact. He looked normal, as if this was a meeting between acquaintances. Maybe it was.

"I didn't lie," Magnus said finally. "And I usual avoid talking about... sensitive topics on the first date."

"Good thing this isn't a date, then," Alec mumbled bitterly. The conversation was already heading in a direction Alec did not want to hear. Still, he forced himself to. If not for Magnus, for his own crushed hope.

Magnus took the few loud steps to the counter and sat on one of the stools there. "I knew Ragnor was a con artist. I was meeting him because he was a friend and I picked what I _thought_ would be a safe time and place. I thought he was just being paranoid..."

Alec could see the hurt in Magnus's face. No one could fake that. Not when it was obviously trying to be hidden.

Then again, he couldn’t assume that at all. He had no clue who Magnus was. Not really.

He let Magnus talk.

"I am not... innocent of criminal activity," Magnus said. It was clear he was picking his words very carefully. "I have a separate presence in the Downworld."

"Downworld?" Alec asked swiftly. If this conversation was going to be a lost cause for their relationship, maybe there was information Alec could give to Jace and Robert.

Magnus waved his hand dismissively. "The underground network. It _is_ criminal, as long as you're going by the law, but..." He paused. "It's not always bad."

"You give money to The Frick Collection," Alec said to help him along. He wanted to know everything, every tiny detail. There were too many burning questions and he couldn't just blurt them out like he wanted to.

"I do," Magnus said. "To combat any negative effects our work might have. I'm an avid fan of art, Alexander. I wouldn’t harm those who help it succeed."

“Are you actually an artist?” Alec said.

Magnus shook his head. “That’s why I worked with Ragnor. He was the talent, I was the criminal mind.” He tapped his head. “As far as security is concerned.”

"So that is your actual work? Unless there’s more to it," Alec said. "What about Bane Co.?"

"It's mine completely and legally," Magnus said. "A talent agency doesn't need the Downworld. It's not just a cover, either. I assure you that is my only true income."

Alec narrowed his eyes. "Then what exactly is involved in your other work? You said you’re the criminal mind. What required that?"

Magnus rubbed a thumb and finger over his mouth. Alec had kissed that mouth. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. "I do work with forgeries, but it's not for me." Alec gave him the most disbelieving look he could muster. "I swear. I don't head it, I just manage a small fraction."

"Bullshit," Alec growled out. "How am I supposed to believe that? After all of this?" His chest felt so tight. He started to pace. "Business and pleasure? Bullshit. What were you planning with that? Were you disappointed when you found out I was the only Lightwood _not_ directly inside of the NYPD? Was it just because -" he stopped. His breathing felt so shallow. "Was this all just because of Ragnor? Was this all a con?"

Magnus took a long, deep, resigned breath. "Not the first meeting and not at the end of the second. And I certainly wasn’t dissap-"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Alec snapped. 

Magnus looked at him sadly. "It means I chose to be interrogated. I chose to have a microscope aimed at me - many, actually, if we include my lovely boss." He drawled the sarcasm. "If you know anything about how con artists work, dear, you know I could have lied. I could have made sure I didn't sound at the least bit guilty. I ran that day and - I didn't want to get too far in."

"Too far in?" Alec questioned sharply.

"With you," Magnus said. His own breath was getting frantic and there was a clear crease between his eyebrows. "I didn't want you to know me any other way than my true self. If we had continued on..." his eyes shined with sadness. "I didn't want to get too attached before I lost you to that knowledge."

Alec's heart hurt. He closed his eyes. What could he believe? What was he supposed to do? There was no guide for this.

"I can't be affiliated with a criminal," Alec whispered. He began the process of shutting off every emotion he was feeling. He had done this before, had survived most of his life this way. He barely knew Magnus. 

So why did it feel worse to be say these words than it did to have felt conned?

"Alec-"

"Get out," Alec said sternly; final. "Please."

He turned away. It was a couple of minutes still before he heard the door.

This was how it was supposed to be. 

Why did it hurt so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I remember when I was originally writing this story so many years ago. I remember thinking "I don't want to write a story of a man who falls in love only to find out they're someone else." I am hoping that it shows through. I'm not interested in that sort of drama. This, though? At this point, either of them could move on. They could be a memory of each other. They will not fight for a relationship that isn't even there yet. So the question is: What will bring them back together, hm? I hope it's entertaining!
> 
> Also, always feel free to point out when I've made mistakes! I'm far from perfect and it's been a few years since I studied art history and restoration. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to those reading and commenting! It makes me feel like there's purpose to this daily challenge. I hope you enjoyed it and I'll be back tomorrow!
> 
> ~Annie


	9. Of Protection and Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who comments! They seriously lift my mood and keep me wanting to work my hardest on this! Love you all!   
> This is a bit of a transition chapter. First chapter to have both Magnus and Alec's POV. I feel it's very important moving forward, and I hope you like it!

There were so many reasons why Magnus had confessed so much. Half of the reasons were complete bullshit and the rest either meant he could sleep with a clear conscious or he could sleep with paranoia at being exposed. He almost wished he could be exposed.

He had handed everything over to Alec – everything he could get out in the amount of time he had been given. The reasons for doing that all boiled down to one very specific thing: he would have lost who he was otherwise.

Without a potential new artist, Magnus was much farther behind on his assignment. And it was exactly that - an assignment. From his boss. Who would not be very happy about all of this. Magnus decided he would keep Alec very very private. No one else had to know his connection.

He found himself back at his loft, sitting in front of a vanity with his wide selection of make-up products. He always toned down everything as The Owner of Bane Co. but it was much easier to be eccentric when you needed to grab people's attention in a specific way.  Concealer, highlights, shadows, eyeliner, eyeshadow, lip gloss - he ran gelled hands through his hair and wondered if Alec was attracted to men in make-up. Not that it mattered. It didn't. It highlighted Magnus's best features, which were already good. Others would notice. Alec had chosen to just be another memory.

That is, as long as he doesn't spill every detail to his family and find a way to get Magnus arrested.

There were no records to follow. Nothing to confirm Alec's words. Magnus was good at his job.

Magnus let his clothes slide to the floor as he searched his large closet. A burgundy suit jacket was a good start. A patterned shirt. Jewelry - necklaces, rings, ear decor. 

He blinked into the mirror. How was it that this part of himself represented the worst? How did he get here?

There was banging on his door.

"One moment," he called, not really caring if they heard or not. He put in his contacts - Cat Eyes, they called him. It had been a joke that had become too serious.

He opened the door.

Raphael stood there, young in body, old in soul. He pulled on is cuffs to straighten his own blazer. "Come on. You take forever.”

“Wait,” Magnus said as he locked the door behind him. They stood in the hallway and Magnus looked at Raphael. They were very similar in their situations, just different in which position. Magnus was a kind of mentor to Raphael. In exchange for not being cruel to him, Raphael had given him a fierce and irreplaceable amount of loyalty. “I need you to stop tracking Alec’s accounts. Delete everything. Make any connection to him disappear. I don’t want anyone seeing he was ever involved.”

Raphael did not hesitate in nodding, but his eyes were questioning. “What caused this? You were eager to throw him under the bus before.”

Magnus dropped his gaze. “Yes. That was before I saw what type of person he was.” He wasn’t going to allow himself to think further about it. Any potential they had, Alec had made sure it meant nothing. There was no sense in giving thought and energy to nothing.

Seemingly suddenly disinterested, Raphael turned and started walking. “Come on, then. You know how Valentine gets if we're late."

 

\---

 

It had taken Alec five minutes before he couldn't stand his own apartment anymore. It was enough time for Magnus to be gone (although he did check) and for his heart to settle back in his chest.

He called Jace as he walked.

"Alec," he said in answer. There was a question implied there. Where was he? What was going on with Magnus? What was going on with _both_ of them.

_Nothing_ , Alec answered himself. He debated telling Jace everything Magnus had told him. Every detail, while it was fresh in his mind. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forget it. "I'm coming back. Do you have time to start training me?"

"Training you? What the hell, Alec. You've never wanted to train before."

"Yeah, well, things change." He felt so gross. He should have taken a shower beforehand, but if he was going to train there wasn't much of a point. "Are you available or not?"

"No, actually. I have to process all the art still," Jace said. Alec could have given him a little more information. Who knows what could have helped the investigation. Who knows if anything that Magnus had said in the interrogation room was helping his father.

Alec swallowed. He couldn’t tell Jace anything _because_ of that – _because_ Magnus had already willingly put himself at risk for the case.

“I understand,” Alec forced through a tight throat.

"However...” Jace trailed off. “I can give you a name."

A taxi ride later, Alec was entering a completely different division than normal. Homicide worked with the white collar division once in a while, seeing how they overlapped more than most realized. Izzy kept them fairly informed, but that’s not who Alec was here for.

“Luke Garroway?”

The man who answered to the name was just as tall as Alec but much, much bigger. Alec did what he normally did, which was appreciate it only in the very back of his mind. He kept his eyes on Luke’s.

“Can I help you?” Luke said. He turned to face Alec and put one hand on his hip. His gun flashed under his jacket and Alec was not impressed. Then, Luke’s hand dropped. “Wait, I know you. Lightwood?”

“Alec.” He made sure his stance was confident and held no trace of the nerves he felt. “Jace told me you might be able to help me out – help me train.”

“For what, exactly?” Luke asked. His eyes were suspicious – just like Alec knew they would be.

“Protection, mainly,” Alec said. “I want to know how to defend myself, but more importantly I want to know how to tell if a person’s lying.”

There was silence between them, a tension of push and pull. Alec knew the game, even if he rarely participated. He took a breath. “I just can’t – deal with the idea of being conned. I’m outside of the force, but my connections could easily be taken advantage of.” He tightened his jaw. “Please.”

Luke stared at him, then huffed as he looked around. It was so obvious he was the one in charge. He had clearly reached that positon – both physically and in regards to respect – for a reason. “Fine, Lightwood. We start today.” He pointed at Alec. “Five O’clock. Don’t be late.”

“Thank you,” Alec breathed. As much as he wanted to start that minute, but was glad for the time to mentally prepare himself. This was going to be difficult, but he had to do it. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theories, anyone? What are our boys up to?? Rest assured, Magnus and Alec will be interacting again soon enough~  
> Thank you all for reading! You're amazing. Goodbye until tomorrow~
> 
> ~Annie


	10. Of Deals and Threats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mess of a chapter because I'm running on four hours of sleep and my bed looks really, really nice. I admit I was a bit lazy this chapter - sorry!
> 
> We'll get back to the malec very soon! Promise! Just needed to show a few things first. I hope you enjoy!

A job gone horrible wrong could end in more than just Magnus's life: it could end another's.

It was a fairly simple assignment. It was just to gather information. Magnus's face was fairly well know, even with the change in his looks, so his job was never truly involved in the process. He was the distraction - a bystander, or perhaps an investor. When they were out doing their assignments, there was no need for him to seem like he knows Raphael at all - whose job was to be forgettable.

Except the techie didn't seem like he would ever forget Raphael.

Magnus cleared his throat. The man, who screamed geek from his glasses to his pocket protector, looked at him.

"Sorry, it's just that guys looks... terrifying," he said. He looked back at his computer. "Now what was it you needed?"

"I was considering buying out part of the company," Magnus said, leaning against the counter. "Don't you think a talent agency should have connections to a place like this?"

"This" being a small, local gallery. It was calming and had a mix of older and new pieces. Musicians played classical music on a small stage, although the gallery seemed to accommodate a wide variety of viewers, not just the classics. Magnus noticed the man's attention slowly move towards him instead of Raphael.

"Talent agency?" He asked.

Magnus hummed, finally grabbing his attention so Raphael could do his work. "Yes. Let me guess. You're good at your job, but you have another talent. You just haven't been able to use it and lay the bills." The man's eyebrows rose. He was fully invested now.

"How did you-"

Magnus held out his hand. "Magnus Bane, of Bane Co."

"Bane - Magnus Bane? Of Bane Co. - are you - serious?" The man shook Magnus's hand a bit too before pulling away once he realized what he was doing. "Sorry. Nerves. I'm Lewis - Simon. Simon Lewis. 'Simon' doesn't really sound like a last name, but Lewis - that really isn't important." The man - _Simon_ \- licked his lips nervously and it was obvious, even with that counter between them, that he was bouncing his leg.

"Simon," Magnus said, looking much more interested than he really was. "Tell me, what is that hidden talent?"

"Ah. A band. What I meant is I'm _in_ a band. We're not anything - I mean we could be! We just don't get gigs, you know?"

"Sure," Magnus said, who was not interested in remembering the times he couldn't pay bills. Sometimes he wondered if this was truly better - but he was proud of his company. So, he pulled out a business card and handed it to Simon. He looked in his peripheral to see Raphael at one of the computers, acting as if he was supposed to be there instead of stealing the blueprints. It was all going well - until Simon looked over to where Raphael was.

There hadn't been a reason for him to, but here was what happened when anyone gained a suspicion: Valentine became involved. You learned too much, and suddenly the ones you care for are threatened, others are killed on a whim, and all future aspirations go up in smoke - unless you cooperate.

Simon Lewis's expression shifted, Raphael looked up, and Magnus knew he had to make a quick decision.

"If you say anything," Magnus said quickly, "There will be a very dangerous man after you."

"What-"

"Trust me," Magnus whispered. "I know. You will never have another band gig. You'll lose your job here. If you make a scene, this whole museum will be suddenly defunded, you'll be out of a job, and who knows what might happen to your family. He is not kind. He has no mercy. So if you-" he cut himself off as he stared at Simon's horrified expression. "I will get your band signed, Simon. I just don't want anything bad to happen to any more people."

Simon's eyes were wide. "I could lose my job here," he said. "I could - I could be blamed for - whatever he's doing. What exactly is he doing?"

"I'll make sure you have a job," Magnus said sternly. "Magnus Bane of Bane Co. Ask for me personally." Why was it that he was having to take such risks as of late? He was starting to feel drained by it - in the same way he was starting to feel like a cell would be better than the guilt of it all. Simon would not be the first who had been in this situation.

Why had he not been able to keep Simon's attention? Why hadn’t he just made up another excuse? He could have made up an excuse.

Simon swallowed nervously. "I haven't been in a situation like this before," he said. "Do you, like - have a gun?" Magnus looked at him through annoyed, half lidded eyes. "That doesn't really give me an answer. But that's cool! That's cool."

Magnus pointed to his business card in Simon's hand. "If anything happens to you, call me."

"Uh, yes, Sir," Simon said quickly.

Seeing how Raphael was done, Magnus took that as a cue to leave. Him first, Raphael a few minutes behind.

They met up closer to Magnus's loft.

" _Fuck_ ," Magnus cursed. He hadn't needed to tell Simon anything. There were a thousand different things he could have done instead. But no, he had to ignore all his training and take her _another_ risk."

"The techie," Raphael said. "You told him. Didn't you? You know what could happen-"

"I know," Magnus said, clenching his eyes shot. "But I can't see what happened to you happen again. It's too far - too many people. If he says anything, I'll just pay him off."

Raphael was silent in the way expressing his understanding, if not his agreement. "Here are the blueprints," he said, handing over a thumb drive to Magnus.

Magnus took it with a sigh. "Thank you, Raphael."

 

\---

 

Setting a meeting with Valentine was not easy, even if it was to deliver information. There were security measures more thorough than the airport, just minus the long lines.

When he was cleared, Magnus met Valentine in an office not unlike his own at Bane Co.: Floor to ceiling windows, bookcases lining the walls and paintings or sculptures displayed in the empty spaces. It was elegant and warm.

It was nothing like Valentine.

Magnus put the thumb drive on the desk. "Here you are. The full blueprints of the Neo Brooklyn Museum."

"Good," Valentine said, leaning back in his chair. He looked too comfortable for an office that couldn't actually be his. When Magnus turned to leave, Valentine gave a low sound of disapproval. "We're not done, Bane."

"What do you want?" Magnus said. "I haven't found a new artist y-"

"That is a problem, Magnus," Valentine said. He was intimidating not from his stance, but in his history - Magnus had seen up close what he could - and would - do.

"What do you want me to do? Conjure one from a spell book? I'm not a magician," Magnus scowled.

"Then let me give you some motivation," Valentine said. "You have two weeks to completely this assignment." He slide a folder across the desk. He tapped it. "Two weeks. And if you don't? Raphael will pay the price."

Magnus stared at him. "Why are you threatening me? I have always done every assignment you have given me." He was feeling himself start to panic. What was in that folder? Could it actually be done that quickly?

"I know you were at the NYPD for Ragnor's murder and I don't appreciate my minions putting themselves - and _me_ \- at risk. Consider this you're warning, and your chance to make amends. Now, leave. You'll want to get started right away if you hope to finish in time."

Magnus snatched the folder from the desk and tried very hard not to stomp out like a toddler. He did walk briskly, though, and he opened the folder as soon as the doors closed behind him.

What he saw made him stop in his tracks as cold seemed to push through his veins.

He needed an artist and he needed them now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I wonder what Magnus is going to do," you ask. "What artist could he possibly go to?" You wonder. "Alec?"
> 
> I'll just say it might not be what you expect. ;) I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> ALSO there might be a day this week (probably Thursday) when I won't be able to post because I'll be working all day! As in 8am to 10pm. Miracles can happen, but you have been warned!
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always! I love you hear from you all!
> 
> ~Annie


	11. Of Information and Indecision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. This was another rough one, but bare with me and I promise there will be a shift in the story soon! Thank you to everyone still reading! Enjoy!
> 
> (Unedited. I'm so sorry. It just isn't happening when I'm half asleep.)

Robert Lightwood was released just before the fortieth hour.

Eight hours and possible further investigation and, possible imprisonment, might have happened if not for Magnus’s information. The angle of the bullet, confirmed by Magnus, had come from a sniper on a building on the opposite side of where Magnus had spoken to Robert. Magnus had approached him approximately ten minutes after the event, as confirmed by Robert’s report of the information. There wasn’t enough time for Robert to have traveled that distance. He was innocent.

Alec didn’t know how to feel about it.

He also didn’t know how to feel about his father hugging him.

“Thank you for finding that man,” he had said.

Alec hadn’t been able to say anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been hugged by his father. Would Robert have done that if he knew Alec found him because they were on a date? If Robert knew the whole story, he would have found some way to make Magnus’s hidden occupation an example of why Alec made poor life decisions. The thought alone made Alec itch to call Magnus and have another date out of bitterness, but that wouldn’t be fair – to Magnus or himself.

Still, he never deleted Magnus’s number. Even if he did, he had the number memorized. He wasn’t sure what he would even say now. “Hi, I’m learning how to tell if you’re lying, so you better not fucking lie to me” seem a little harsh for an ice breaker.

His days were filled doing small jobs for the NYPD and Shoe Lady, while his evenings were spent with Luke.

He had never been forced to make so much eye contact.

It was unnerving at times, but the things Alec was able to notice once he got over the initial intensity was worth every minute. Micro expressions, diversions, word play. It all seemed like so much, yet it made complete since.

Had Magnus used any of this on him?

He really needed to stop thinking about Magnus. The whole point of learning this stuff was to avoid being screwed over by someone like him.

It wasn’t only those techniques Luke taught him. There was defense – how to get out of a hold, how to disarm someone, and how to at least look like he knew how to use a gun.

“I won’t actually use it,” Alec said. “I won’t kill anyone.”

“Hopefully, you’ll never be in a position where you might have to,” Luke said. “I know you said there wasn’t a specific reason, but if you’re as worried as you seem…”

“I just want to be prepared.”

“Then let me teach you how to actually use it.”

The gun was heavy. The kickback was so unexpected, Alec had to shake his hands out – or it could have been his nerves, but he would never admit to that.

He fired off the gun, trying to aim at the target, but he hated it. Nothing about it felt right.

He turned to Luke.

“I know a con artist,” he admitted. “I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t – know who he works for, but I keep thinking about the last words – our last conversation. It doesn’t feel right. I need that feeling to go away.”

Luke stared him down steadily, but Alec refused to give up any more information. He held Luke’s gaze and would not back down.

“You won’t tell me who it is?”

“No.”

“That’s aiding a criminal.”

“I haven’t seen him commit a crime,” Alec said flippantly. Luke smirked, satisfied, and Alec matched it.

“Then let me ask you,” Luke said, “Are you trying to get rid of the feeling, or are you planning on trying to do something about it?”

“I’m not planning on anything right now,” Alec said honestly. “Except for being ready if anything does happen. My family is involved in this. I won’t let them get hurt.”

“Are you sure you’re not an agent?”

Alec took a deep, steady breath. “I couldn’t do this all the time. But right now? I think – I _know_ I need to. I can’t really explain it… Art feels _right_. This feels _needed_.” There was something in Luke’s expression that told Alec he _did_ understand and it made him feel less… silly.

“I know a con artist as well,” Luke said lowly. “But nothing to prove it. That’s why I know so much about their side. We were… friends.”

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing you didn’t kiss them,” Alec deadpanned and turned away.

“Worse has happened with con artists,” Luke said. “They know how to use and manipulate. Sex, drugs, money, murder. Did he do anything to you?”

Alec dropped his gaze. “Yes. He was honest with me.” Somehow, that made it all feel worse.

“Did you…” Luke started. “Were you involved seriously?”

“No,” Alec said. “Not seriously. I’m not really thinking about that – except how much I don’t want to feel hope in something that isn’t real. I feel… empty when I think about it. How it had felt like _something_. Not love or anything. We went on _maybe_ two dates. The interest was there and I… don’t get interested easily.”

Luke hesitated, but Alec spoke up before he could ask. “Yes, my family knows I’m gay. My parents just like to forget about it and they don’t like it being spread around the departments.”

“That sounds like your parents,” Luke mumbled with a helpless raise of his eyebrows.

“I got over it a while ago. I just thought maybe I could ignore it, too. It makes things a lot less… clear… when it could have been set up – when it could have been a con.”

“And what makes you think it was?” Luke asked.

Alec took a breath. “He wanted me to replicate a painting.” Luke winced. “But…” He looked at the floor. He knew Luke was involved in Ragnor’s case, or at least knew about it. “He knew Ragnor. The minute my dad was arrested, he was willing to risk – whatever he’s doing.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “Magnus Bane?” Alec nodded solemnly. “He… told you he was a con artists?”

“Essentially,” Alec murmured.

“Then I don’t think _you_ were conned,” Luke said. “At least, if you were at one point, you weren’t in the end.”

Alec closed his eyes tightly. “I don’t want to be told that. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Luke thinned his lips, then gave a curt nod. “Okay then. Come on, let’s get back to work. Maybe this talk has helped your aim.”

It didn’t. Alec’s aim was worse than before, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.


	12. Of Options and Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand hopefully this chapter will show exactly why the last two were needed! 
> 
> Thank you all again for reading! Still unedited because I've suddenly become much busier than I thought. But I hope you enjoy it anyway!

One week.

One week had passed, one week was left, and Magnus still had not found an artist.

It was an impossible task in such sort time. The stress alone made Magnus that much more likely to slip up, and he couldn’t afford that now.

He was tempted to call Alec. Explain everything in detail. Get the help of the NYPD. He was starting to feel so… tired.

He had still be working in that week. If not as the owner of Bane Co., he was checking the recently acquired Neo Brooklyn Museum blueprints. He weighed his options, considering dragging Simon back into this mess via his ID card, but the point was to go undetected.

This was what Magnus was good at. The blueprints in combination with pictures told him exactly what the security outside and inside the new museum. There was nothing Magnus didn’t recognize. The museum was young, so the security wasn’t the best money could buy. Magnus thought that was such a pity and filled it away.

He was overlooking the fill Valentine handed him when there was knocking on his loft’s door.

Camille Belcourt was not who he was expecting.

Magnus’s eyelids dropped into a lazy glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be having the time of your life in France?”

Tossing a fake smile at Magnus, Camille crowded her way into his loft. “Lovely to see you too, Magnus. Although, I’m surprised you didn’t call earlier.”

“I didn’t call at all,” Magnus pointed out, but his eyebrows drew together warily. Camille was as manipulative with her words as she was her hips. Magnus stayed at the entrance, the door still open. “Perhaps I need to ask more clearly: What are you doing here?”

“You, my dear,” Camille said, her mouth twitching in a confident smirk, “need an artist, last I heard.” She used one arm to gesture down her body and Magnus’s eyes followed. He was very well acquainted with what she could offer.

He wasn’t interested.

“And how, pray tell, did you hear about that?” Magnus said, rubbing his fingers of one hand over the rings of the other.

“Ragnor.”

Camille at least had the decency to look solemn, but it still struck a chord. Magnus looked away, staring at nothing as he closed the door.

There might have been an underlying fondness between the two of them, but that did not cover up every other part of their very complicated relationship. Magnus tried to see casual as he sat in one of his cushioned chairs, crossing his legs and attempting to present something between bored and interested.

“I could be your artists, Magnus. All you have to do is ask,” Camille said, who looked at Magnus as if she might just sit on his lap. He did not uncross his legs.

“If I remember correctly,” Magnus said, tapping his fingers on the armrest. “And I do, in fact, remember correctly – the last time you were my artists something disastrous happened. What was it again?” He mocked deep thinking. “Oh, right. You took every cent and vanished to France, leaving me to pick up the pieces with Valentine.” He gave her a blank stare.

Camille rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t have done it.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Magnus said confidently. Unlike himself, Camille had worked by choice. Seeing how she took advantage of the lack of leverage, Valentine had since been much stricter in who he brought in. “Valentine would never allow you to work for him again.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Camille said. Her words were smooth and silky, a suggestion under them. “At least, not until the job is complete.”

It clicked into place. “Ah,” Magnus said, letting himself smirk. “I see. Something happened in France, didn’t it? And you need to find your way back into Valentine’s good graces.”

The scowl Camille gave him was all the confirmation he needed. He swept out of the chair and yanked open his door. “You won’t be getting any help from me.”

Camille looked at the door, then at Magnus, unbelieving. “You wouldn’t do that to me. You love me.”

“Loved,” Magnus corrected. “Past tense. Betrayal changes things.” He was almost certain she had betrayed him in other ways as well, but had never confirmed them. He had never wanted to.

Camille’s heels clacked purposefully as she approached him, so close they could kiss.

“You can’t leave me out to dry, Magnus,” Camille said. “You’ve always had too soft a heart.”

“You were a fine example to learn from,” Magnus murmured. He took a step back because it still hurt. However, desperation would not drive him to this.

Yet.

“Goodbye, Camille.”

She didn’t not say goodbye. She glared, hiding her own hurt. “You’ll come crawling and I’ll be ready for it,” she sneered. Then, she left.

When Magnus closed the door, the leaned back against it. Slowly, he slid down and just let himself sit there.

After he had given himself enough time to get his emotions together, he dug in his slacks for his phone.

He would try calling once. Just once.

He stopped himself, his brain circulating through ever other possibility. Was this the right call? Should he had sucked in his pride and risk Camille’s help?

No. He couldn’t risk another betrayal. He couldn’t risk Raphael.

Not Alec. He didn’t deserve any of this. So what risk was he willing to take?

The answer was simple: himself.

He made the call.

Surprisingly, it was answered within just a few rings. Silence was pushing through more loudly than words.

“Alec,” Magnus whispered. “Don’t hang up – I know you don’t want to hear from me, but listen.” Still silence. “Alec, I just need to know it’s you I’m talking to.”

It was a moment before there was a small and curt, “It’s me.” And it was. He did not sound happy at all.

Taking a breath to steady his nerves, Magnus pushed out the question. “I need your help – not with a con. Well, sort of with a con…” Alec still was not talking. Magnus liked having the room to say everything he needed to, but it was harsh and unnerving still. “I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me with something much bigger – and in return, you will have all the information I know about the Downworld. I’ll confess it straight to your – to Trace – Jace Wayland.”

There was a sound through the speaker, evidence of a huff, but there was a small laugh behind it. It didn’t sound bitter, though, which was good. “And what would I be doing, exactly?”

“Helping take down one of the biggest con artists of our time – and I don’t mean me. Or just me,” Magnus said. He swallowed and lowered his voice. “Can we meet to talk about it? After Ragnor, I’m a little…”

“Paranoid?”

“Something like that.”

Silence. Alec was very good at silences. “Okay,” he finally said in a sigh. “I’ll meet with you. No promises, though.”

“No promises. I understand.” Magnus said. Then, “Alec?”

“Yes?”

“He’s threatening my friend – my family.”

A pause. Then, whispered, “We’ll help some way. That, at least, I can promise.”

Then Alec hung up.

Magnus stared at his phone because they weren’t done. They still needed to set the meeting.

Then, a text came in. Bane Co., tomorrow morning at nine. 

Magnus wasn’t sure if it should be something to look forward to or dread, but either way his stomach was in knots. He hoped this was the right move.

No, he needed it to be. There was no other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go! It will start to get a bit intense from here!
> 
> As I mentioned before, I probably won't be able to update tomorrow because of crazy work, but hopefully the next day's will make up for it with pure awesomeness. Or something.
> 
> Thank you all again for reading! As always, I love to hear theories and/or what your thoughts are!
> 
> ~Annie


	13. Of Reunions and Deals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy! I wish I could say I had a nice day off, but I really was working - and I'm still working a lot! But here's malec for y'all!
> 
> (Still unedited. Oof. The downfall of trying to post daily)
> 
> Enjoy!

Maybe Alec was supposed to feel more anxious than he was. The truth was, he wasn’t feeling much of anything but the gun in the back of his pants and determination throughout his body.

He was meeting Magnus in the same coffee shop they had their date. Maybe that was supposed to mean something, to maybe make Alec feel something, but it didn’t. Right now, it gave him a cup of coffee to occupy his hands.

Then, Magnus sat down across from him and Alec’s mind blanked. He had been so sure his memory of Magnus was good. It was not something he could have easily forgotten. But it did not match up with the man in front of him.

Magnus was dressed differently. Alec didn’t know what the clothing pieces were called, but his shirt had a sort of ruffle to it, a deep green that contrasted with his red and black patterned vest. He was wearing make-up – at least around his eyes. His eyes, which were gold and the pupils were slits. His hair was also done differently, but Alec was definitely focusing on his eyes.

“Contacts, dear,” Magnus said, and his lips quirked and Alec was suddenly focused on them. He blinked and quickly looked back to Magnus’s eyes.

Giving himself a moment or two to gather himself, Alec fiddled with the lid of his coffee. “You look different.”

“You don’t seem to mind,” Magnus said. He didn’t say it arrogantly, but as an observation. Alec wanted to deny it, but he wanted to actually show an example of what honesty looked like.

Alec cleared his throat. “I don’t. I like it, but you were attractive either way.”

“Were?” Magnus asked gently.

“Are,” Alec corrected, focusing on breathing through his nose. “You’re still physically attractive. A… difference in opinion doesn’t change that.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Magnus said. His voice was gentle. He wasn’t being defensive. It was just a simple question.

Alec closed his eyes and gathered himself. Then, he looked back at Magnus. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to trust you. I’ve been learning tricks, but you’re… very good at what you do.”

“And what is it that I do, Alec?” Magnus asked, tiling his head down just slightly. His eyes looked so sad and his contacts were not helping.

“Manipulate a situation in your favor. Which is what you did with me, isn’t it?” Magnus went to speak, and Alec could tell it would be a refusal, but he put up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t answer that. I’m not here for that. I’m not here for… _us_ , no matter how… attractive you are. I’m here because it seems like there’s something very big going on that’s hurting a lot of people. I want to stop it.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows and thinned his lips. “That’s something we have in common, at least.” He leaned back in his chair. He was just observing Alec, his eyes focused even if his body seemed relaxed. He was fiddling with the rings on his fingers, a sign that meant he at least felt the least bit anxious. Alec held tightly onto that. Magnus was trying to hide it. It was a confirmation – but Magnus then licked his lips and took a shaky breath and it was visible. Normal. Not held back at all.

“My main concern is involving you,” Magnus said. “I know you aren’t an agent yourself. I would prefer your name or face not be associated with this at all.”

“Well, currently I’m the only name and face attached to this case,” Alec said.

Magnus looked away. “I’m to blame for that. Ragnor was my artist. I did need a new one. I still need one.”

“What’s different this time?” Alec asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, his coffee forgotten.

“I willingly risked my exposure before, at the interrogation and in telling you what I did,” Magnus said. “This time, I want you protected, and I want to be wired. I want to –” He stopped and looked around nervously.

Right. Ragnor was killed in Central Park. What made a coffee shop safe?

Alec was about to suggest his apartment again, but hesitated. He wasn’t sure he could do that – risk that. Then, Magnus pulled out a folder and handed it to him.

“It explains everything. Every single detail I know. Who the top is, who is being threatened, who isn’t, any future plans I’m aware of, and the location of stolen pieces.” Then, Magnus pulled out a second folder, laying it on top of the other one. “This one is for you. You can choose what to do with it. It is a full confession to every single crime I’ve committed.”

Alec had went to pick it up, but stopped and stared at Magnus’s words. “What? We don’t even have you under suspicion of any crimes.”

Magnus looked solemn. “I know.”

That… was a lot of power Magnus was giving Alec. If Alec truly believed the justice system was perfect, he would hand it over immediately to Jace. The problem was, he didn’t believe in it as much as his family did. But who was he to make that decision?

He slid the top folder back towards Magnus. “Keep it. We won’t focus on that right now.” He took the other folder and opened it, completely ignoring Magnus’s shocked expression.

“Alec –”

“I’m reading,” Alec muttered, but just a moment later and he gave the smallest of smiles. It immediately fell as he started looking seriously through the file. “What… what _is_ this? How did this even happen?”

“It is amazing what one man can do when he has no heart,” Magnus murmured, his eyes on his hands. “I got so used to it being my life, I didn’t really think about what it could have been. You reminded me of that.”

Alec blinked. Then he blinked again and refused to look at Magnus’s face, afraid of what he might see there. “Don’t say that,” he whispered. “I’m confused enough as it is. I want to stop all of this,” he said, tapping the folder, “without distraction.”

“I don’t want you involved with me,” Magnus said, and Alec tried very hard not to let those words mess with him too much. “I don’t want you used against me.”

“Well,” Alec said, slowly setting the folder down. There was too much for him to take in at one sitting. “Good thing you won’t have to worry about that.” He put his hand flat over the folder. “I’m going to give this to Jace. What is your request, as far as a reward for this information?”

Magnus looked wary before shaking his head. He stopped, then winced. “Raphael’s protection. He has done nothing but keep his family safe and done as I’ve asked. Valentine has used him personally to threaten me into this latest assignment.”

“And your own?” Alec asked carefully.

Magnus was rubbing his hands together as if they were cold or sweaty. “I’ll figure it out. I have a business to run and I’m working on protecting someone already within that. You’ll see his name and information – Simon Lewis.”

Alec didn’t much care for specific names at the moment. They were all in the file anyway. He leaned forward. “We’ll help. At the very least I will. I promise.”

“As an artist?” Magnus asked, hopefully but unbelieving.

“Yes,” Alec said. “I will.”

“And what do you want in return?” Magnus asked, leaning forward himself.

“If we succeed,” Alec said, “I want that other file. But not until then.”

“And what will you do with it?”

Alec shook his head. “I’ll have decided by then. Do we have a deal?” He offered his hand.

Magnus took it and there it was – the softest glimmer of hope in his eyes. He took Alec’s hand. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked this chapter! Trying to find that fine line between "I have a very strong connection to you" and "I don't know you well enough to care". Spoiler alert: they care.
> 
> I will still try with the daily updates, but I'm currently getting ready to go to Freecon this next weekend, so when I'm not working on this, I'm drawing until my hand cramps or at work. fun times!
> 
> Anyway, as usual, let me know your thoughts! And prepare for things to start to get pretty intense!
> 
> Much love!
> 
> ~Annie


End file.
